I'm Not Sick
by GleeJunkie007
Summary: Ryan's sick and doesn't want the Cohens to know. How long is he going to be able to keep it from them?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own The O.C. or any of its characters. All of that belongs to FOX.**

 **A/N: First The O.C. fanfic. I am still currently watching it (near the end of season one). This is set early season one right after Ryan moves in with the Cohens. Please leave me a review.**

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Ryan's POV

I sat in class across from Luke as the teacher gave a lecture. I could barely keep my eyes open. My head was pounding. I couldn't tell if it was from the bright lights or just the fact that I didn't want to hear a lecture on The French Revolution, but either way, it hurts like hell.

I put my jacket on as I felt shivers go up and down my spine. I felt so cold.

"Dude, how are you not baking?" Luke asks me and I shrug, not even attempting to give him an actual reply. I didn't want to talk.

"Hey." Marissa gets my attention; she was sitting across from me, next to Luke. "Are you okay?"

I nodded.

"You sure?" She asks.

I nodded again.

"I'm fine." I spoke.

After first period ended, I went back to the pool house. I couldn't stand having to listen to another lecture. I could bare to stand up or try to stay awake any longer. I needed to lay down. Sandy and Kirsten were at work, so they wouldn't know.

I could get some sleep and then maybe I'll be able to put on a fine façade; I didn't need them worry about me.

It wasn't their job to worry about me. They had done enough with taking me in.

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Seth's POV

I hadn't seen Ryan all day since breakfast—well this morning right before Marissa came to give him a ride to school—since he didn't eat any breakfast—which was kind of strange for Ryan. I didn't see him in halls or at lunch.

"Hey Marissa, have you seen Ryan?" I asked as I walked by her and Summer in the hallway.

"No, not since first period." Marissa told me.

"Well do you know where is?"

"No."

"Maybe he left." Summer suggested.

"Yeah, well I guess it's safe to assume that since he's not here." I replied in remark.

"He didn't look so good this morning." Marissa added. "Maybe he's sick."

I shook my head. I didn't believe that—well I am sure it's possible to get sick—everyone gets sick—but this is Ryan. I doubt he'd let a little cold or something make him ditch school—especially since Dr. Kim, when she finds out, she is going to kill him.

During Lunch, I went back to the house and found Ryan asleep in the pool house. I pulled up the chair and stared for a moment—mostly because I couldn't believe it. Ryan Atwood, asleep in his natural habitat and during school hours. I do not see how catching up on beauty rest qualifies for a good reason for ditching school—and later having to deal with Dr. Kim and my parents.

"Ryan." I said and he didn't wake him—I don't know why I thought saying his name in normal tone would wake him up; it would take more for me to be woken up.

I repeated his name again—louder and multiple times until something came out of him in a mumble.

"Dude, I get that sleep is awesome but I don't think it's worth having to deal with Dr. Kim when she founds out you ditched today and it's only what? You're second week?" I pointed out and then some sort of moan—or groan—came out of Ryan, in response.

"Dude, what's wrong with you? You sound like you're dead—well dying because you know, dead people don't make sounds, or more even—or maybe you sound like the living dead—"

"Seth." Ryan spoke, cutting me off. "Do me a favor."

"What?" I ask.

"Shut up."

"Noted." I nodded awkwardly as he began to cough.

"You sound awful."

"Thanks." Ryan replied, sarcastically. "Are you going to comment on my looks too?"

"Well, you look terrible—but maybe even worse than how you sound, which like I said is pretty awful—" I cut myself off at seeing the glare from Ryan. "Right. Okay. I'll shut up now."

"But seriously—you look—are you sick?" I ask.

"I'm not sick." Ryan says, his voice sounding hoarse before he coughed a couple times into his sleeve.

"Yeah, here's the thing, based on how you look, sound, and that cough, I am inclined to disagree with you. Now it isn't a problem, my parents—"

"No, you're not telling your parents." Ryan said.

"I should. Trust me, you'll thank me later—"

"No, Seth, I'll be fine. Just—let me be." Ryan insisted and though I disagreed with his choices and I knew that somehow they would figure it out, I nodded. I wouldn't say a word. If Ryan wanted to suffer on his own I was fine with it.

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 ** _Please don't forget to review._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own The O.C. or any of its characters. All of that belongs to FOX.**

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Ryan's POV

I laid there on the bed. I didn't even bother to get under the covers as my body ached too much to move. I kept going in and out of sleep. It might have subconsciously been because I was also worried of either Kirsten or Sandy coming home early and finding me. Though, it probably was in too much pain—and I was also uncomfortable—to stay asleep.

One minute it'd be 11:10 and then I'd wake up and it would be 11:49.

I don't know what's worse: Not being able to stay asleep when you feel like crap or having to listen to a chemistry lecture when you feel like crap.

Seth left me alone in here to suffer; he went back to school when lunch was over. I had managed to convince him from telling his parents, luckily. So now I just had the task of actually keeping this from them. But that can't be too hard, right?

Seth came back into the pool house after school ended, waking me up.

"Feeling any better?" Seth asked.

"No." I replied, annoyed—mostly because I couldn't seem to be able to get any rest. "I feel like crap."

"Well, yeah, I assumed that because when you are sick, you don't feel exactly great—you feel the exact opposite of great—which is what you said…" Seth trailed off as he noticed the glare I was giving him to shut up. His blabbering was making my head spin—more than usual.

I was in pain everywhere. I was uncomfortable. I felt like crap. Though, that felt like an understatement.

"You feel like crap?" Seth asked—well wasn't that a stupid question to ask a sick person?

"I thought we established that?"

"Well if only there was something that you could help with that. Oh right, it's called medicine, which my parents could easily offer if you'd tell them you're sick." Seth says and I groan into my pillow before turning back to him.

"I'm not sick." I said.

"I thought we established you were." Seth comments with a sarcastic gasp. "My bad."

"Seth!" I said, trying to sit up. I coughed and then winced as my body ached with every movement.

"Sorry, I'm not sneaking you medicine or anything. If you want to take care of yourself, you're free to do that." Seth replied.

"I was going to ask you to turn out the light." I said. I would do it, but I wasn't going to attempt moving especially since he was standing right next to light switch.

There was a moment of silence before the room was darker.

I let myself slip into consciousness.

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Seth's POV

I shook my head as I left the pool house. I didn't understand why Ryan was just going to suffer in silence alone. I guess he didn't realize how awesome being sick could be. Whenever I get sick, it's paradise. No school and my parents at my beck in call, getting and doing pretty much whatever I ask them to.

Ryan was seriously missing out.

He could at least feel less-crappy if he told my parents about it.

I didn't see what the whole 'being sick denial' point was.

I went into my room for a while. I found myself, constantly wondering about Ryan. I was concerned for his well-being and I was also curious to how long he would last before my parents would figure it out. He hasn't been here long and my mom—well—she could spot me sick from a mile away and that was before I even would have the chance to tell her.

I don't think he'll last through dinner without them figuring it out.

About an hour later, my parents were home with dinner. Apparently, they had decided to bring some Thai food home. I wasn't complaining. My mom didn't cook it, so I was satisfied; I don't know how Ryan is going to be.

"Where's Ryan?" My dad asks as he takes the food out of the bags and puts it on the table while my mom gets the plates and utensils.

"Asleep, in the pool house." I said.

"Is okay?" My mom asks.

She didn't normally do that, for Ryan. I swear, it's like she subconsciously just knows. It's like some weird physic power or something.

"Just exhausted. He was up late studying last night. Big test." I lied for him; it was least I could do. He made me swear not to tell and I was going to honor that; though I thought it was stupid.

"Well dinner's here, so you should go get him." My mom told me and I nodded, going out to the pool house; dinner should be interesting.

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Ryan's POV

I shot up awake at hearing Seth's voice and also by him shaking me.

"What?" I asked.

"They brought dinner." Seth said.

I sat up, moving so my legs were hanging off the bed. I took a breath. I didn't want to go in there. I wasn't even hungry. But I knew if I didn't go in there and act like I'm completely fine, they would know something was up.

"It's Thai food." Seth added before leaving the pool house.

"Oh. Great." I said sarcastically as I stood up; just the kind of food I needed right now.

I left the pool house and went into the kitchen. I glanced up at Sandy and Kirsten and put on the 'I'm okay' façade so they thought I was fine. They didn't need to know that I didn't feel a bit unwell. They had done enough for me. They didn't need to worry about me. I was used to taking care of myself and I'd probably be better by morning.

"Hey Ryan, long day?" Sandy asks me as I sit down.

"Yeah." I managed to say, normally.

"How was the test?" Kirsten asks me, casually. I was confused at first, but then I realized that Seth must have come up with an excuse to why I was sleeping. At least one good thing came out of him knowing.

"Fine." I said.

 _Everything was fine_.

I put some food on plate. I wasn't hungry, especially not for this. I wasn't sure my stomach could handle much of anything. I barely ate this morning because I had been feeling so bad. The thought of food made me sick. But I knew I couldn't say I wasn't very hungry as I knew they'd find that odd as I didn't eat this morning.

I knew I needed to eat something; at least a little. As far as they knew, I was fine. I need to keep it that way.

I put forkfuls of food into my mouth and forced myself to eat it while I seemed to be fine. Though I felt sick just looking at the food on my plate. I didn't eat more than maybe five forkfuls of food before I ended up just pushing the food around on my plate.

"Ryan, you okay?" Sandy asks and I nod.

"Just not very hungry."

"You barely ate this morning." Kirsten pointed out.

"I had a big lunch." I said; though I didn't eat anything.

Luckily, after that point, they lost interest in speaking to me as Seth started a conversation about Summer, which of course, didn't seem to ever end. For once, it was a blessing—in a way—as it took the attention off me. Something I didn't need.

After dinner, I stood up.

"I can clean up." I said and took the plates to sink. I felt tired, but I knew I needed to help out. It was the least I could do since they let me stay in their home.

I went to the sink to the put the dishes in them. I started to wash them by-hand like I normally do, when I suddenly felt a bit dizzy. My head felt like it was going to explode. I grabbed onto the sink to keep my balance in case my body wanted to fall over.

"Ryan, are you alright?" Kirsten asks me. I blinked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I lied. I was starting to feel worse. My head was throbbing—I could hear the pain in beats, if that made sense—and my stomach didn't feel so good either.

"You don't look so good." She said.

"No, I'm fine." I insisted.

Maybe, I should get back to the pool house.

"Sandy." Kirsten looks at him and then back to me.

"Ryan, are you feeling alright?" Sandy asks.

"I have homework to do." I say trying to get out of the kitchen, but Sandy stands in front of me and puts his hand on my shoulder to stop me from going anywhere.

"Hold on a second." Sandy said and then put his hand on my forehead.

"Is he sick?" Kirsten asked, directed to Sandy.

"He's really warm."

"I'm not—" I started to argue, but stopped at feeling my stomach lunge. I quickly moved past Sandy and Kirsten as I quickly made my way to the bathroom. I got there in time; I started throwing up.

I guess the Thai food wasn't a good idea.

It felt like I was there for hours, when really it was more like five minutes. Then it became dry heaving. I turned back at feeling someone starting to rub my back; it was Sandy. But I didn't say anything I started to vomit again.

Once, I was sure I was done—at least for now—I made a move to push myself up. Sandy wrapped an arm around me and helped me up.

"Come on, let's get you to bed." Sandy said and I shook my head.

"I didn't finish…the dishes…"

"We have a dishwasher, Ryan. It'll do its job." He told me as we went back through the kitchen and then down the hallway, instead of outside to the pool house. "Right now, the only job you need to worry about is getting into bed."

"Pool house…"

"You're staying in here while you're sick." Sandy said.

"I'm not sick." I tried to claim, though it was useless at this point.

"I beg to differ, Ryan." Sandy as he open the door to the guest room. I got into the bed when Sandy lifted the covers. I think he said something else, but I didn't even hear it. I felt too crappy to care. I just need to sleep; I'd probably be better by tomorrow.

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 **A/N: The Cohens know, but Ryan won't be better that soon. Where would the fun be in that? I hope you enjoyed chapter two.**

 ** _Please don't forget to review._**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own The O.C. or any of its characters. Anything that you might recognize belongs to FOX and** **Josh Schwartz** **.**

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Sandy's POV

"Is he okay?" I turned to see Kirsten and Seth standing right outside the kitchen as I come out the guest room, carefully closing the door. It didn't take long for Ryan to fall asleep and I didn't want to wake up.

"He'll be okay." I said. He would be, as long as he got some rest.

"I knew he wouldn't last through dinner—damn, I should made a bet—"

"You knew he was sick and didn't say a word?" I crossed my arms, looking at Seth as did Kirsten.

"Sorry, he asked me not to say and though I wanted to say, I wasn't going to because I wouldn't have his trust and that would probably come back to haunt me in the future. And I—"

"Okay, I get it." I said, cutting Seth off. I could see his intentions; there really wasn't a win-win scenario given with what Seth had to work with. And I didn't have to hear what more he had to say on it.

"I didn't see the point in keeping it to himself, but I had to respect his wishes." Seth added.

"Well Seth, let's just say you were more fortunate than Ryan was." Sandy said.

I knew it wasn't completely Seth's fault thinking it was odd for Ryan to want to keep the fact of him being sick to himself. Whenever he got sick, Kirsten and I would be at his beck and call. He's gotten that all his life and he's used to it. And he likes to forget what Ryan went through. He doesn't like to think about the abuse Ryan suffered, and honestly, neither did I. I was certain that Ryan grew with the idea that being sick was a burden on his mother, so naturally he would want to keep that to himself.

"Will he be okay?" Seth asked.

"He will. Don't worry Seth, we'll take care of him. You just worry about getting your homework done."

"…and Summer." He added.

"Okay. Now go." I sent him off.

I walked with Kirsten back to the kitchen.

"Are you sure Ryan going to want to be taken care of?" Kirsten asks me and I shrugged, not sure how to answer that.

"Well I'm not just going to let be." I said. This boy was part of the family now and he deserved just as much as we give and have given Seth over the years; that includes being taken care of when he's sick.

"I didn't mean it like that Sandy."

"I know." I said. I was mostly bugged by the fact that Ryan would want to keep this to himself. It seems to just be the cold, but what if it wasn't? He could have had something more serious and keeping it to himself, could cause more harm to him.

"Do you want me to go out to the store and get some stuff for him?"

I nodded; it'd probably be better to be prepared now if Ryan doesn't get any better tomorrow. And I was sure he'd be just the same or worse in the morning.

"The usual stuff you get for Seth. Cough Medicine, Soup, Popsicles, crackers, some ginger ale, Advil…stuff like that." I tell her. Kirsten nods and grabs her keys before leaving the house.

While Kirsten was out and Seth was doing his homework—or at least that's what I hope he is doing—I went to check on Ryan. He was asleep, so I would have to be careful so I don't wake him. I gently put my hand on his forehead; he felt really warm.

I knew I should probably take his temperature, but I didn't want to wake him.

For now, I'll just get a cool washcloth to put on his head, to help bring the fever down.

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Ryan's POV

 _I was eight years old and the flu had been going around the school. Theresa had already gotten had been forced to stay home not too long after the first person caught it and didn't show up to school. I had hoped I wouldn't get it for a couple of reasons._

 _1: Being sick sucks._

 _2: I don't want to miss school; its only place I can get away from Jake, my mom's current boyfriend._

 _3: I'll get my ass kicked._

 _But I got sick._

 _Maybe two days later, I woke up with congestion, a sore throat, and a fever. But I knew I couldn't let my mom or Jake know I was sick; they hated that. I forced myself to get up, get dressed, and go to school no matter how awful I felt._

 _I tried to get through the day, acting like I was fine. I probably would have gotten away but I had to cough._

 _I coughed._

 _My teacher asked me if I was sick. I told her, I wasn't and that I was completely fine, she didn't believe me. She took me to the nurse and she took my temperature. I had a fever and then the school nurse scolded me for coming to school as I could infect other students._

 _I guess she was right, but it was the flu; she screamed at me like I came to the school with the plague._

 _I told her not to call my mother, but she didn't listen._

 _She came in all smiles; it was kind of scary. But I knew it was just an act as I knew she wasn't going act how she normally does in front of people. But once we got home, all bets were off. That's where no one could stop her or whatever abusive boyfriend she was staying with at the time._

 _She took me home and as soon as we got through the door, she started hitting me._

 _"DO YOU THINK ITS RIGHT I HAVE TO TAKE TIME OUT OF MY DAY TO PICK ME 'SICK' SON FROM SCHOOL?! HOW SELFISH IS THAT?!" She screamed as she slapped me across the face and then she kicked me in the stomach. I curled up into a ball to somewhat shield myself from more hits._

 _I flinch when she touches my forehead._

 _"You don't even feel warm." She shook her head. "You're not even sick. You're such a lying, worthless, piece of trash. Just like your father. Just like your idiotic brother!"_

 _I started to cough and shiver._

 _"Oh shut up! You're not fooling anyone!" She screamed as she pulled me up and threw me into the bathroom, locking door._

 _"Since you decided not go to school, you'll spend the day cleaning the bathroom." She said. I guess she also wanted to make sure I didn't make a mess, in case I felt like I was going to throw up._

 _"Jake will deal with you later." She added._

 _The worst was when they knew I was sick. They made the suffering worse._

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Sandy's POV

I came back and gently placed the wet cloth on his forehead. I really hoped that this would be able to help with his fever until the morning when Kirsten and I could give him some medicine. I knew I should give him some tonight, but he needed his rest and I don't want to wake him unless it's absolutely necessary.

I got up to leave Ryan, but then I heard him start to mumble as if he were having a bad dream.

 _Maybe I should wake him._

Yeah, I probably should. I guess I should. I'm Ryan would wake up from it at some point soon; I'll speed up the process.

"Ryan." I said as I shook his shoulder, gently.

Ryan's POV

I woke up and saw Sandy standing over me. I blinked and sighed in relief. But then I felt a bit guilty as I remembered how I threw up, now giving the Cohens a reason to resent having me in their house. I shouldn't be such a burden.

Why wasn't I able to keep this to myself?

"You okay?" Sandy asks and I nod.

"Well now that you're up, how are you feeling?" He asks and I repeated the same thing I had told him seconds prior to his first question.

Sandy and Kirsten didn't need to worry about me. I could take care of myself.

"Ryan, be honest." Sandy tells me. "I know you're sick and don't tell me you're not because I know that's a load of crap."

I sighed.

I guess after throwing up in their bathroom, they wouldn't believe me when I told them 'I'm not sick', at least for now.

"Does anything hurt?" Sandy asks me and I nod.

"My head. My throat." I admitted, though I was sure the throat probably came from when I vomited.

"What about your stomach?" He asks.

"It's okay." I said. It was a bit uneasy, but I didn't really classify that as pain; Sandy didn't need to know all about that; it was probably nothing.

"Is there anything else?"

"I bit cold." I admitted. I had been feeling cold all day, but I hadn't wanted to move to get a blanket to raise the heat.

Sandy left for a moment and came back with an extra blanket. I sighed—I shouldn't have said anything. I didn't want them to think they had to get me things. I could make do with what I already had. They had given me enough.

Sandy puts his hand on my forehead once again and then manages to slip a thermometer past my lips; I guess he wanted to see how high my fever was. It beeped after maybe a minute and Sandy took it out as he took the hand off my forehead.

"101.9" Sandy reads.

"I'm fine." I insisted.

"Not according to this you're not." Sandy said, standing up. "It's okay. Kirsten will be back soon with some medicine for you."

"It's okay you don't—" I was cut off by Kirsten coming in and handed Sandy a bottle of medicine.

Well that was quick.

I watched as he poured a dose of liquid medicine into a dosage cup. He the bottle on the nightstand that was next to bed momentarily. "Ryan, sit up and take this." Sandy said and as I opened my mouth to argue, he told me not to. "No arguments."

I pushed my body up and took the cup from him. I swallowed the bitter medicine and laid back down as he put the medicine away.

"Try and get some rest. If you need anything—and it's okay if you do—let us know. Otherwise, I'll check on you in the morning." Sandy tells me as he gently rubs my back. I shut my eyes and nodded at what he said, too tired to protest that I was okay and didn't need anything.

I hope I'm just better in the morning. Then they didn't have to think about worrying about me.

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 **A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the reviews! They make me so happy to read each and every one! I am so happy you guys are enjoying the story. It's fun for me to write. Anyways, there will be a Kirsten's POV coming up soon in the story. Please continue to tell what you think and if there is anything you'd like to see.**

 ** _Please don't forget to review._**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own The O.C. or any of its characters. Anything that you might recognize belongs to FOX and** **Josh Schwartz** **.**

* * *

Ryan's POV

I woke up the next morning, not feeling any better than I had yesterday; I actually felt worse. Everything was hurting. My head, my throat, my stomach, and pretty much every other part of my body. Everything ached. I couldn't breathe out of my nose and I felt so cold, I could shiver, but I resisted the urge. I wasn't going to let the Cohens know that I was feeling awful. I had to act like I was fine—like it was just a 24 hour thing. I would just have to push through it and put on a façade; a more convincing one.

I forced myself to get out of bed. I had some clothes in here for one time where I had to stay in here. I put them on and then sat on my bed, resting for a little bit, but then I left the guest room. I went into the pool house to grab my backpack—as I did, I realized I didn't do my homework; I hope I won't get into too much trouble. After I had my back I went into the kitchen. Now Sandy was in the kitchen, having some coffee.

"Where do you think you're going on?" Sandy asks me.

"School." I said, trying my best to sound normal.

"You're not going anywhere." Sandy tells me and I sighed; I had to go to school. I didn't want to stay here—well I didn't want to be sick. I don't want them thinking I'm sick. It'll just be a bother.

"I'm not sick." I insisted, in which Sandy crossed his arms and arched his eyebrow. "I'm fine." I continued to insist.

"That's what you said yesterday." Sandy said, obviously not believing me.

"I feel better." I tried to claim, but still he didn't believe me. Did I just look sick or something? Or was I just a really bad liar, like everyone says? Probably both, but I didn't want them to think they had to worry about me. They shouldn't have to. I'm not their problem. I shouldn't be their problem. Why can't they just let me go so they don't have to worry about anything except their work? My mom would have been happy if I had done that for her.

"Right okay." Sandy shook his head, walking over to me. I took a step back, sitting at the counter where I would normally sit like any other day. Sandy was still looking at me—eyeing me—and it made me sort of nervous. He put his hand on his forehead and I couldn't resist the urge to shut my eyes for the time he had his hand on there.

"I'm okay." I opened my eyes and quickly insisted; I shouldn't help him determine I was sick, by acting like I felt bad. I had to seem like I was okay.

"Ryan, do you think we were born yesterday?" I look over and see Kirsten walking in, dressed for work. And now, it was when I realized that Sandy was not dressed for work, unlike his wife. Why wasn't he dressed? He was always dressed—or at least he would look like he just got back from surfing. But it was neither.

"What?"

"We're not clueless. We know you're sick." Kirsten said and I sighed.

"I'm—"

"Not sick? Yeah, try that again later." Sandy laughed a bit and I sighed; this was not going how I hoped it would at all. "Now open up."

"What?" I ask.

"I need to take your temperature." Sandy said, showing that he had the thermometer in hand. Did he have to do that? I think it was obvious that I had a fever. I had even let my body shiver a bit since I knew there was no point trying to hide it any longer.

"Do you have to?"

Sandy nodded. "Ryan, it is just thermometer." He said. I knew that. I wasn't stupid. I could see what it was and I know what it's for. I just know if I let him do it, he'll want to do it frequently; that was something I didn't want. I didn't want them to think they had to do stuff for me. They didn't have to. It wasn't their job.

I shook my head.

"You don't need to. I think you already know that I'm sick." I said.

"Yeah, but I have to keep an eye on that temperature." Sandy said further as he brought the thermometer closer to my mouth. "Open your mouth." He said and complied, hesitantly, and he stuck the thermometer under my tongue and I sat there, with my arms crossed as I began to shiver.

As I sat there, waiting for the thermometer to go off, Seth came down and stared at me for a second.

"Well, well, is someone sick?" Seth asked, sarcastically using a tease-like tone.

"Shut up, Seth." I said, with the thermometer still in my mouth.

"You: go to school." Sandy pointed to Seth and then turned to me. "And you: no talking."

I didn't argue; it's not like I was much of a talker anyways.

Sandy then came over and took the thermometer out of my mouth when it started to beep. "102.2" He read and then put it down on the counter, while shaking his head; I guess that wasn't good. "Not good, kid."

"Sorry." I shrugged.

Seth left shortly after that, but not before he said a few other words. I didn't even bother to listen to what he said. I got up and started to walk to the doors so I could go back to bed in the pool house, but stopped at hearing Sandy, which is what he wanted me to do.

"Guest room, Ryan." He told me and I sighed. Not that I minded, it was actually kind of nice being in the house for a change, I just hope it's not a bother for them now having to give up the guest room.

I went back to the guest room. I took off my clothes and changed into something more—comfortable. I was now wearing my usual tank top with sweatpants. I got back into bed and that's when Sandy came into the room.

"Do you want anything to eat, Ryan?" He asks me.

I shook my head; the thought of eating made me want to go throw up again.

"Okay, but I want you to eat something later." Sandy said as he came into the room and sat down at the edge of the bed. He then placed a cold washcloth on my head—why was he doing that.

"What—"

"It's to help with the fever." Sandy explained.

I nodded, deciding not to fight it. Mostly because it was helping with my headache a little.

"Do you need anything Ryan?" He asked me and I shook my head. I didn't need anything. I could take care of myself. I don't know why he thinks he has to keep checking on me. This was probably just a cold or something. I would be fine. I didn't need him to worry about me. "Okay well, I'll be here all day. So just come get me—or call—if you need or want anything. I'll check on you in a little bit." Sandy patted my shoulder.

"You don't have to—"

"I want to." Sandy replied.

I didn't really see why he wanted to do that. Did he really want to be around me when I'm sick like this? I don't know if I would. Why does he want to take care of me? My own mother never did. She never wanted us to be sick or in need of anything. She wanted perfect kids—though it isn't like those exist. She wouldn't pay for Trey and I to get flu shots—though I'm not really complaining all that much—but then if we got sick, she didn't want to hear about it; it was bother to her. She would yell and then, depending on the boyfriend, I might even have gotten my ass kicked.

Well, at least, I don't have to worry about getting my ass kicked here—I know Sandy and Kirsten would never do that to me. But I don't want to be a bother to them. Needing things and such—that was being a bother. I wouldn't do that.

I could handle this. I could handle just having a cold.

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 **A/N: I just adore the Sandy/Ryan relationship, so it'll probably be mostly those two for this, but I may throw in some Kirsten/Ryan as well. If there is anything you want to see happen to Ryan in the story, let me know. Also if you could, please check out my other story I started "I Don't Have A Toothache", if you haven't.**

 ** _Please don't forget to review._**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own The O.C. or any of its characters. Anything that you might recognize belongs to FOX and** **Josh Schwartz** **.**

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Ryan's POV

Yesterday, I spent most of the day, resting bed, except for the couple times that Sandy woke me up to take my temperature and make me take some more medicine. I guess it could be sort of annoying and it kind of was, but I didn't mind it that much. I mean, I guess, I should be grateful that he cares. I am and I know he says he wants to, but I know that no one would really want to deal with me, especially with me like this. Who would actually want to deal with someone who's sick? I'm not even actually their kid to worry about; they shouldn't have to worry about me. But I didn't argue with the fact they wanted me to stay in bed and rest. I had felt awful and after a while, I didn't want to do anything except lay in bed.

But now, I felt worse than I felt yesterday.

My head felt like it was going to explode. My throat felt like it was on fire. My body ached everywhere like I had gotten hit by a bus. My stomach was hurting. I felt so cold that I was shivering more than that time my mother made me sleep outside.

I have had colds before and I never felt like this. I think the only time I could feel like this, or worse, was when my mom's boyfriends decided to beat the crap out of me; and at least then the pain subsides after a while.

I groaned at hearing someone knock on the door to the bedroom. I turned over, burying my face into one of my pillows.

"Ryan?" Sandy comes in and sits on the edge of the bed.

"Hmm?"

"You feeling any better?" He asks and I shook my head slowly. I would have spoken, but I knew that was going to hurt too much.

"Worse?" He asks and I nodded, slowly. "Can you tell me what hurts?" I quickly shook my head and then groaned as he asked to know why.

"Hurts…to talk." I managed to say; it came out sounding really hoarse. It seemed not only did I look as bad I feel, I also sound as bad as I feel. I opened my eyes a crack, looking at Sandy for a moment before shutting my eyes again. I felt tired. I was in pain. It seemed like I wasn't going to get any better soon.

"Maybe I should have a doctor take a look at you." I hear Sandy mutter and my eyes shot open. I looked at him and then shook my head in protest. They didn't need to call any doctors. I didn't want them to call any doctors. I would be fine—it has to be just a bad cold—and they shouldn't have to call a doctor for me. It's too much of bother; and not just to them.

I hate doctors.

I spent enough time in hospitals, getting stitches and such as a kid. The doctors I had were never helpful. The doctors would either look at me like I was trash or with pity as they proceeded to 'help' me which included hurting me more. They only kept me from dying, like when my father smashed a beer bottle over my head when I was twelve; so I wasn't a fan of doctors.

"I don't…need…a doctor." I told him, struggling to speak, but I'd do anything to avoid having to go see a doctor. Not only do I not want to, it's pointless—being as I'll get better in a matter of time—and they shouldn't have to be going out there way to take me to see a doctor, anyways.

"It wouldn't hurt to get you checked out to make sure." Sandy said, much to my dismay; I don't even know if he noticed the irony in that statement. "When's the last time you've seen a doctor, anyways?"

I didn't respond at first.

"No…I'm okay." I insisted. "No doctors."

Sandy then left the room momentarily to get a thermometer. I sighed, but let him take my temperature for what felt like the hundredth time. "Okay, you're 102.5 right now, kid. But if it gets any higher, I am having a doctor take a look at you."

I nodded; I just had to hope it never got to that point.

"Listen, I have to go into the office for a bit…" Sandy told me. I don't see what the problem was. I guess, he didn't want to leave me alone in the house with me being sick, but I was fine with it. I have been locked in rooms when I was sick before. I've dealt with worse and I could take care of myself. They didn't have to put a twenty-four watch on me. I would be fine.

"It's fine." I told him, not letting him finish. "I'll be fine on my own."

"I was actually going to tell you that Kirsten will be here while I'm gone." Sandy tells me.

"No, it's okay. She doesn't have—" Sandy cuts me off mid-sentence. I didn't need them to take off work for me, especially Kirsten. I knew, for one thing, her father didn't like me and his hatred would grow if he knew she stayed home for me. I didn't want her to have to stay home from work because of me. It wasn't fair to them.

"Ryan, it is okay. Kirsten offered. Anyways, she is doing some work from the house and she is just going to check on you every now and then until I get home. If you need anything, you can let her know." Sandy patted me shoulder before leaving. I didn't say another word before laying back down. I wasn't keen on the idea of Kirsten staying home. She shouldn't have to just because I'm a little sick. This is why I wish they hadn't found out. All I do is make their lives more difficult. I guess I'll just have to try and make it a bit easier by staying out of their way. It wouldn't be that hard; all I wanted to do was sleep.

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Kirsten's POV

Sandy left for work and I continued to work on going through legal documents and talking to people on the phone. My dad had called earlier and demanded to know why I just had to work from home today and I told him I wasn't feeling too well. I didn't want to even think about blaming Ryan for something else, so I had to lie. It wasn't like my father would take time out of his day to come check up on me. I knew it was a harmless lie. I was still doing my work and I was here for Ryan, if he needed me. I see it was a win-win.

The day was really quiet. I hadn't heard anything from Ryan. I had checked on him once and he had been asleep. I knew Sandy wanted me to check his temperature periodically, but I wasn't going to wake him. I knew he was feeling bad and I knew he was going to need his rest.

Taking his temperature could wait.

It was around two when I decided to go check on him again. It was when once again, I had just gotten off the phone from a work call.

I went into the guest room and was shocked to find that Ryan wasn't in bed. I hadn't heard a thing from him all day. He had been asleep last time I checked and now he wasn't even in bed. But as I took another step into the room, I heard a sound coming from the bathroom; it was right next to this room so it wasn't that hard to miss. I left the room and found Ryan throwing up in the toilet. He had barely had a thing to eat yesterday but it seemed that didn't matter. I kneeled down next to him and rubbed his back as he threw up. After a few minutes, he sat on the floor of the bathroom, clutching his stomach and shivering.

"C'mon," I urged as I put my arm around Ryan and helped him to his feet. I flushed the toilet and lead him into the living room, where I helped him to the couch. He started shivering once he was on the couch. I wrapped him up in a blanket and then put a thermometer in his mouth. This brought back memories: I remember Seth had the stomach flu once when he was eleven and had been so miserable; Sandy and I took care of Seth until he felt better a couple of days later. I wasn't sure if that's what Ryan had or not, but it's possible. But no matter what, we were going to take care of him.

I sat on the couch next to him after getting the bottle of medicine just as the thermometer started to beep. I frowned at seeing that his temperature had gone up slightly. It hadn't gone much, but I knew that Sandy wanted me to call a doctor if his temperature had risen even the slightest.

"I think I'm going to—" I said, picking up the phone, but only got two dial the area code when Ryan started protesting, weakly.

"No, I don't need a doctor."

"Ryan, you really should be looked at." I told him. I knew that Sandy was right to be concerned and that having Ryan seen by a doctor wouldn't do any harm. We don't even know the last time Ryan actually saw a doctor; and who knows if he even saw one that wasn't in the ER. "Don't worry, it's not a bother."

"I don't _want_ a doctor." Ryan said. I looked at Ryan in the eyes and I saw something in them that caused me to put the phone down on the table; Ryan looked scared. I could imagine that many—if not all—visits Ryan had made to see a doctor were anything he'd want to remember. I try not to think about what Ryan has gone through. I don't like to think about how someone could hurt a child like Ryan probably has been. It makes me something hurt, thinking about those possibilities. But I knew it happened. I guess the thought of having to see a doctor wouldn't be something Ryan would want. I knew what Sandy had told me. He wanted me to call a doctor if Ryan's fever went up but I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to do it seeing the look on Ryan's face.

 _It wouldn't hurt to just wait a while. If it didn't improve by the time Sandy got home, then I'd call a doctor._

Maybe Sandy and I being there, if it came to that, would make Ryan feel a little less reluctant.

"Okay," I said, letting go of the doctor issue for now. "But if you're not any better by the time Sandy gets home, I will call."

Ryan nodded, but I knew that was just because he was satisfied with me not calling a doctor now. I would have to keep a close eye on him and maybe do what I could to help bring his fever down.

"Can I go to bed?" Ryan asked.

"I want you to stay on the couch for a bit, okay?" I responded. It would be easier for me to keep an eye on Ryan if he were out here than in a closed bedroom. "Can you sit up and take some medicine?" I asked, picking up the medicine bottle off the coffee table. Ryan had been laying against the arm rest of the couch since I took the thermometer from him.

Ryan shook his head. "No—I'll just throw up again."

"It's supposed to help you"

"I just wanna lay down." Ryan argued and though I knew I should get some medicine in him, I knew Ryan was tired, especially after vomiting so much. I decided to hold off and give him some later. I got up briefly, putting the medicine in the kitchen and then going back over to the couch with a cold cloth and a small trash can in case Ryan felt sick again; this way he wouldn't have to rush to the bathroom. Ryan was laying across the couch. I sat next to his head and then gently ran the cool washcloth against his forehead. I hoped this would be enough to bring his fever down.

Ryan fell asleep for a while, but woke up. He then started to vomit, into the bin I had gotten for him; I guess it was a good thing I had gotten it. He sat up and vomited for a while as I rubbed his back, wishing there was more I could do. Once, he had finished, he slowly laid back down. I moved a bit closer to him and rubbed his back.

"I think maybe we should try some medicine." I suggested as I put my hand on his forehead. He still felt really warm.

"No…won't help." Ryan protested.

"Ryan—" I think taking some medicine would at very least, help with the pain. I knew just by looking at Ryan, he was in pain. He felt miserable and I couldn't bare just to watch. I knew Ryan was probably used not taking medicine, dealing with everything on his own without help, but he didn't have to do that now. He had us and he could have things that could help. "—I really think you should take some medicine."

"I don't need it." Ryan insisted.

"I think you do." I continued. "Ryan, you aren't going to feel any worse if you take it and you aren't going to feel any better if you don't take it. Please, for me?" I tried, maybe this approach would be better. I didn't feel comfortable with Ryan not taking anything. At least, if he took some, I knew I had done what I could for the time being.

Ryan slowly nodded.

I got him to sit up long enough to take a dose of medicine and then a few sips of water before he laid back down. I moved a bit closer to him and started to rub his back again. When Seth was little, this used to make him feel at least a little more comfortable. I knew Ryan was not Seth, but I figured it was a worth a try; maybe he'd be okay with it. I had doubts that his mother ever did anything for him of those sorts. I hope I'm wrong, but I doubt I am; Ryan deserves better. He deserves to have people care about him, especially when he's like this.

"Sandy will be home soon, okay?" I told him.

"You don't have to stay. You can do—work." Ryan replied.

"I worked all morning on The Newport Group. Right now, I am going to stay right here with you." I told Ryan. My dad could manage everything else without me. I had a more important job that needed my undivided attention; Ryan.

I had a more important job to do: being a mom.

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

Ryan gave up shortly after that. I wasn't sure if it was because he believed I wanted to or because he just didn't have the energy to argue with me any longer. But either way, he just laid there, trying to get some more rest. He seemed to relax after a while. I was just relieved he didn't pull away like usual. Ryan fell asleep after a while. I knew as soon as Sandy got home, we needed to have a doctor take a look at Ryan. I might be overreacting—Sandy and I could be overreacting—but I just wanted to be sure that there was nothing really wrong with him. It could just be the flu or something easy, but it never hurt to be too careful. I knew Ryan wouldn't be thrilled about it, but I knew Sandy would agree that Ryan was going to need a doctor sooner or later. In this case, the sooner the better.

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 **A/N: I am not really sure how I feel about this chapter. I have been struggling on what to write for days and finally, this is how it ended up. I hope it's not awful, but I guess it's something. Let me know what you thought.**

 ** _Please don't forget to review._**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own The O.C. or any of its characters. Anything that you might recognize belongs to FOX and** **Josh Schwartz** **.**

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Sandy's POV

I finally was able to leave the office and get home to Kirsten and Ryan. It felt like longer than it had been probably because all I could think about was getting home. I was worried. I had every right to be. My kid is sick and it's hard to tell how sick he is when he wants to keep it all to himself. I understand why, but I just wish Ryan would tell us how he is feeling. I do get it's hard, but it also makes it harder for us. I just want to help him and it's not easy when I don't know what's wrong.

I came inside and found Ryan asleep onto the couch next to Kirsten.

"He's out of bed." I commented, putting my keys down on the counter.

"I wanted him out here." Kirsten tells me.

"How is he doing?"

"Not well." Kirsten said. "He threw up and I think his temperature went up a bit."

"Did you call the doctor?" I ask and she shook her head. I sighed. That's the one thing I had told her specifically to call the doctor if Ryan's temperature went up, but she doesn't. "Kirsten—"

"I know Sandy, but he asked me not to."

"Kirsten, of course Ryan would say that." I shook my head. The kid didn't want us to know he was sick let alone letting us call a doctor to look at him. Ryan didn't want to be a bother.

"No, it was different." Kirsten said and it took me a moment to understand that Ryan hadn't wanted a doctor not because he thought of it being a bother, but because he specifically didn't want to see a doctor. I guess I should have guessed. I saw on Ryan's file multiple visits to the emergency room when he was little; and those were only the documented ones. I guess the kid wouldn't be fond of doctors.

"I wanted to at least wait until you got home before I called." Kirsten says and I nod.

"You're right." I said, running my fingers through my hair. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I'm worried too." Kirsten comments before getting up to call the doctor.

I sat down on the couch next to Ryan. I put my head on his forehead. He felt really warm. But I took a breath. I would have to just wait to see what the doctor says before Kirsten and I could do anything else to help him. After Kirsten called, we sat with Ryan and waited until the doctor could get here. Then when he finally did, Kirsten went to let him in while I woke up Ryan.

"Ryan, you need to wake up."

"Huh?" Ryan mumbled, opening his eyes.

"Doctor's here to take a look at you." I told him.

"I don't need a doctor."

"I know you may not want to see one, but we're worried about you. We just want to make sure there's nothing to worry about." I try to explain that we just want to have all our bases covered. I had to make sure Ryan was alright and this was nothing serious.

"There isn't. I'm fine, Sandy." Ryan insisted.

"Well there's no harm in getting you checked out." I pointed out and I could tell Ryan wasn't happy with that. "Please kid, do this for us. We just want to make sure everything is okay."

"Fine." Ryan sighed in agreement.

"Okay, Kirsten and I are right over here if you need us." I told him before I got up, letting the doctor take a seat next to Ryan. I stood next to Kirsten. We were out the way so the doctor could do his job but close enough so we were here if Ryan needed us.

Ryan's POV

I sat up so the doctor could do his job. I knew he was going to ask me to. I didn't want to do this. Not just because I dislike doctors, but also because I really just don't feel up it. I'm in pain pretty much everywhere and I'm just so tired. All I wanted to do was lay down. I wanted to get back into bed as this couch isn't very comfortable. I really didn't feel up to doing this, but I would suck it up and let him do whatever because that's what Sandy and Kirsten wanted. They have done more than they should have to for me since they found out I was sick; I owed them this, I guess.

He asked me a series of questions as he started to check me out. They were mostly about my symptoms; he wanted to know so he could check out various areas.

"Have you experienced any chills?" The doctor asks.

I nodded. Right now was the one of the few times I hadn't been so cold, I was shivering.

"Have you been coughing? Do you have a sore throat?"

"Yes." I answered aloud, also to show him how my voice sounded; it felt worse than it sounded at times.

He started off by taking my temperature. It ended up being over 102, so I guess that was high. Then he checked my eyes.

"Okay open wide and say 'ahh'" He told me and I complied, knowing that he wanted to check my throat. It already hurt enough to swallow, let alone speak, but I wasn't going to argue; that would hurt more. I let him check my throat and then he did a few other things while asking me questions.

"Have you been nauseous?"

"Yes" I answered.

"He's thrown up a few times." I heard Kirsten add from across the room.

"Don't worry. That's normal." The doctor replied as he went on to continue with this, though I found it pointless. It seemed he already knew what was wrong with me from his previous statement.

"Are you experiencing muscle aches?"

I nodded; I hurt pretty much everywhere.

After a few more questions, he stood up, finished with his examination. I looked over as he walked over to Sandy and Kirsten.

"Is he okay?" Kirsten asks, sounding worried.

"It's just the flu. He'll be fine. He just needs to get plenty of rest and drink fluids." The doctor tells them and I laid back down, feeling exhausted. "The vomiting can come in some cases of the flu. You can give him medicine to treat the symptoms, but there isn't much we can do for the flu besides wait it out."

"Thanks doc." Sandy told him before showing him out.

 _Like I said; it was a waste of time._

I could have told them that.

I opened my eyes and saw Sandy was now sitting next to me and Kirsten was standing right next to Sandy. I felt so tired. I was in pain everywhere and what I'd give for it to just stop, or at the very least subside.

"Are you in pain, Ryan?" Sandy asks and I nodded.

"Do you want some medicine?" Kirsten asks.

I shook my head.

"Do you want to go get some rest in your bed?" Sandy asks and I nodded, but I also felt too tired to move. I felt uncomfortable but it almost felt like too much effort to get up. "C'mon kid, I'll help you." Sandy said and he did. I stood up and I leaned into his body. He guided me to my room. I got into bed, already feeling slightly better now laying somewhere more comfortable than that couch.

"Thanks." I said.

"Anything you need, Ryan." Sandy said as he started to rub my back. "We're here for you. We'll help you the best we can."

I shut my eyes, relaxing a little at Sandy's warm and gentle touch. It felt kind of soothing. It made it easier to fall asleep despite the pain I was in. Now if only I could just get better; being sick sucks.

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 **A/N: Here's a chapter of this updated while I'm in pain myself. I somehow managed to hurt my back (I don't know how) so it hurts to move. But I managed to update, so I guess that's a good thing. You can send me love by reviewing ;)**

 ** _Please don't forget to review._**


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